


I Am Yours

by DirtyEffinHippy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age Inquisition Spoiler, Fade, Fenris - Freeform, Goodbyes, Hawke left in the Fade, M/M, Taunting, Varric - Freeform, brief Aveline, brief anders, brief isabella, brief merril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyEffinHippy/pseuds/DirtyEffinHippy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke made the decision. One last middle finger to the Magister he failed to put down. He'd stay behind, give the Inquisitor a chance to make things right. But not everything goes how he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Yours

The sinister sound of the demon’s chuckle sent a paralyzing chill down Hawke’s spine.

“Little bird, little bird … how quickly they’ve abandoned you.”

Injured, limping, and furiously determined, Hawke turned back towards the looming creature before him once he saw to the Inquisitor and made sure her party made it safely from the Fade. Eyes hardened, thoughts of the loved ones he was leaving behind flickered through his mind.

Carver, his brother would continue to do good things, he knew it. He was strong, stronger than he ever gave himself credit for. He was going to do _good._  He needed to. His brother was a Hawke, after all – he could do anything. Merrill, with her sweet naiveté, though hidden intelligence and a keen awareness lingered in her peripherals – she merely honed them towards thoughts that are a little left of center from the rest of us. Varric. Oh, Varric. Hawke couldn’t help but to think of his drinking companion with a laugh that could cure the most dreadful of illnesses, but eyes that were just a little too tight around the edges. Eyes that Hawke could drown in because of the sheer vast familiarity in them. Hawke knew the look in Varric’s eyes – Varric was a survivor. A survivor that has seen too many things fail and too many things fall but still managed to keep breathing. To keep _being. Oh, Varric. My friend,_ he thought to himself, _I am so sorry._ Bella – Izzy, he knew she’d be alright. She’d have a drink in his honor, she’d toast to all of the stories they had shared. Stories she would carry with her until her dying breath. A true friend. Avvie, sweet, brave Aveline. Some days he couldn’t tell if he thought of her more as a mother or a sister but the underlining message was the same: Aveline was family. He noticed the twinge in his chest at the thought of leaving Aveline behind. She’d lost so much, he hated leaving her with one more notch on that wretched belt.

His mind briefly flickered to Anders but … he couldn’t. His stomach lurched at the thought of his fallen friend. True that Hawke did, in fact, spare him during that fateful night at the gallows … but things were never the same. Anders soon left the group of eclectic wanderers on his own mission of repentance. He had his own demons to face, literally. Maker, he had hoped that Anders would be OK. He loved him dearly, the sting of losing him was still painfully raw.

And Fenris. The face of his lover flashed so brightly in his mind. Pools of green with a hint of a smile looking up at him. Years of shifting through the layers that he had buried himself in to keep him safe were all so worth it when he remembered that first time that Fenris had looked into his eyes with nothing less than absolute trust. With love.

_Oh, Maker_

Hawke felt he was going to be sick at the thought of Fenris finding out. He had left his lover safety behind with the absolute intention of returning to him. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He wished he could have seen him one last time. Wrapped his large, battle-worn arms around his lithe frame one last time. Just once more.

Hawke blinked back the tears that were forming at the edge of his eyes. When they re-opened, that crystallized gaze once more renewed, he glared up at the monstrosity above him – the wounds of battle still evident on the embodiment of Fear giving Hawke the push past his memories, past his regrets, that he needed. His goodbyes laid to rest.

The demon chuckled once more as though it were not on the cusp of serious injury.

“Poor Fenris … he knew you’d leave him. You’re a fool if you think that little wolf of yours will survive it.”

“No! You don’t get to say his name” Hawke growled furiously, “You’re dealing with me now!”

If Hawke didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that the monster was grinning at him.

The thing tsked at him as though he were a disapproving parent and not the thing made up of nightmares. Actual nightmares.

“Indeed I am. They are expecting you to die, you know.” 

His voice was so deep, so ... enveloping, it did nothing to warm the chill set in Hawke’s bones. The voice was coming from the demon, it was coming from all sides of him. Nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Hawke smirked up at this … this thing then. His usual mask firmly in place to distract him from his discontent. “It’ll take more than filth like you to take me down.”

“And why would I do that, little bird? I should like for you to … _suffer_.” That one word dripping with ill-fated promise caused Hawke's face to fall, his features slipping from the usual mirth. 

More laughter. More of that damnable laughter.

“Perhaps I will even grant you audience with your little slave. I am sure your failure will give you cause to see him again. Quite soon, even.”

“You don’t know him, you don't know anything about him! Enough talk, Demon, let us settle this, it's time to die!" 

With a voice saturated with amusement came the last reply he would hear: “I think not, little bird. I think not.”

Before Hawke could even begin to think of a retort, a strong force knocked him back violently into the jagged rocks that surrounded their little battle arena. The air rushed out of him as the edges of his vision wafted from the green hues of his surroundings to the black of a deep sleep.

Coughing, trying to gulp the air of the Fade back into his lungs, he blinked up at the monster.

Or where it should have been.

He was alone. Dreadfully alone. The way the water, or whatever it was, dribbled from the stone should have made sound but there was none to hear. No sound of trekking footsteps of his companions from not long ago, no quips or battle strategy. No wind or movement anywhere. Silence with a thread of static that was both silent and screaming.

A flash of bright green caught his eye to the left. A small chair suddenly appeared seemingly out of thin air.

Cautiously, Hawke made his way toward the new piece of decorum. Only after coming right on top of it did he notice the piece of parchment. A familiar handwriting upon it made his heart plummet into his stomach.

 

* * *

 

_Shit, Broody … I hate to do this to you. And over a letter, nonetheless. You don’t deserve that. I can’t think of how else to get to you though so this is going to have to be it. I’m sorry, kid._

_Things … got bad. Really bad. I don’t know what details you know about the shitstorm hitting Thedas but it’s getting hairier and hairier by the day. Turns out that Magister you and I helped Hawke put down isn’t as down as we all thought. He’s back and planning a whole lot of bad. The Inquisitor, I think you’d like her. Rivaini would love her. She’s had a lot of shit slumped on her shoulders but she’s doing ok. Had to make a lot of tough calls._

_Anyway, you probably don’t care about that. It’s not the point of this either. I’m stalling. I’m sure you can tell that from a mile away. I'm usually better with words than this._

_Well, shit. Here we go._

_Hawke … there was … shit. If you want details, I’d rather do it in person, I owe you that much. But Hawke, he … he didn’t make it. I’m so sorry. Nugstits, Fen, I never thought he wouldn’t come back. It’s Hawke! Can’t tell whether the guy has the best luck or the worst. Had. Doesn’t matter. The guy, he’s a hero. He went out in a blaze, I don’t know if that makes it worse or better but I wanted you to hear that from me. Hawke is a goddamn hero. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him, he saved a whole lot of people. A whole lot of the right people and there’s not a day that is going to go by that people won't remember that._

_I’m sure you noticed by now that I sent a couple of things with this. Hawke … left a few things before shit went down. I thought you should have them. Everything is there, including the ring. I’m also sending another letter, sealed. That one goes to Junior. Broody, you can’t do anything stupid, alright? I need you to take this letter to Carver and explain to him what happened. I wrote what he needed to know but I think it will do you guys a lot of good to be there for each other right now. You’re family. Shit, you’re MY family. Once you make it to_ _Weisshaupt, I’ve got another package coming your way. A little info on the band of misfits here. I could use a friendly face right now, shit’s gotten weird and there is a distinct lack of broodiness that I think you could fill. I’d be grateful if you did. Attached is a person of contact and the way to get to Skyhold. That’s base of operations. First bottle of wine is on me before this all goes ass end up._

_I’m … sorry, kid … for whatever that’s worth._

_Don’t do anything stupid._

_-V_

* * *

 

The taste of bile rose quickly and he only had a brief second to scatter backwards before everything he had eaten over the last few days came rushing out with a vengeance. Shaking, he lowered himself on the frigid ground not paying any mind to the wet surface seeping into his breeches. The words “quite soon” echoed in his mind. Hawke squeezed his eyes so tightly and didn’t re-open them as he prayed and prayed and prayed that Fenris knew how much he loved him. _Please be strong, love. I know you can._

The prayer was all he had to cling to in this vast quiet. No demons to taunt him, no enemies to slay. One living being in the Fade with nothing but prayers and a dwindling hope to thrive on. He had expected a battle, to die fighting this … this thing. One last middle finger to that blighted bastard before he went out.

This was worse. This was useless. And lonely. And all his mind could cling to in the coming days was that familiar low, resonating voice that always made his heart warm: _“I am yours.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Little one shot - drabbles that came to mind as I was doing a little sketch of this scene. Started as a sketch, came out as a one-shot. Them's the breaks. I have 9 playthroughs of Inquisition and only one did I leave Hawke behind. And I hovered over that dialogue option way longer than I should have. I hope you enjoyed it! Kudos and comments are definitely welcome, I'm not used to the whole "one-shot" bizz, so I haven't a clue if I'm doing it right or not. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading! <3


End file.
